Not So Alone
by Psycho Goddess
Summary: At Christmas Break of fifth year, Harryhas reached the breaking point. Can the only other student there change his mind? **COMPLETE**


Well, this is my first Harry Potter fic (excluding the Lying Here With You fiasco which will not see the light of day) and I am more then a little leery about this. Set at the Christmas break of fifth year, this is the story of Harry as he re evaluates his decisions. Maybe not as overdone as you may think. All credit should probably be aimed at my beta for this story. Without her it just wouldn't flow as well. :-D 

Disclaimer: Does anyone even care? Honestly. I mean, if I _owned _Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing this. Jeez! 

~*~*~*~

"Hello Harry, studying hard for your classes?" asked Albus Dumbledore, seating himself beside his young student. Christmas Break had just begun, and he and the slight boy beside him were two of the few people remaining at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

"Hello Professor Dumbledore," Harry glanced up from his book for a moment to give his headmaster a fleeting smile before turning his attention to his book again. There was a pause as Harry's emerald eyes scanned the page in front of him, his brow furrowing as he read on. Finally, he gave up, slamming the book shut and placing it on top of the pile of textbooks beside him. Ever since Ron and Hermione had gone home for the holidays, he started burying himself in his schoolwork to keep his mind off the memories.

"So, Harry, how are you?" _Holding up_, he wanted to add, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that this year had not been easy on Harry. Guilt of Cedric Diggory's death tore at him, and the constant threat of the Dark Lord placed more stress upon the Hogwarts students more then any other member of the wizarding community. But he bore the load quietly. And that was what worried Albus more than anything. 

"I'm fine sir. I've just finished wrapping up the last few gifts for the Weasleys- I sent Hedwig to drop them off a minutes ago," he replied.

"Good," he stood, wishing he had an excuse to stay. "Well, the other students are having an early dinner, since the trip to Hogsmeade is in the morning." 

"Yes, I know." Harry replied quietly. "If you don't mind, I'd rather not. I'm not very hungry at the moment, sir." 

"I understand," he said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment before he left the room, clambering through the portrait hole.

~*~*~*~*~ 

Harry sighed, contemplating his current situation. It seemed that –as incredulous as it may sound- his life was even worse then when he was living with the Dursleys. At least back then he wasn't wanted by a psychotic revenge-driven warlock, he didn't have any friends to worry about......and he wasn't a murderer. 

That was the thing that hurt the most- he was responsible for the death of an innocent student. A student who was a friend, a prefect and, most importantly, a son. And the worst part was that nobody- not even Cedric's parents- held him responsible. It would be so much easier if they did. But all he received was the pity of everyone he came into contact with, and some he didn't, to be perfectly honest. The Boy That Lived was almost killed, but only an unknown young warlock was taken, instead. It wouldn't surprise Harry in the least to hear that some people found Cedric's death a blessing. 

"Hello," a quiet voice said, breaking his thoughts. 

Harry turned, only to find himself face to face with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Who was she? And what was she doing in the Gryffindor common room? She wasn't a member of this house. And he didn't remember seeing her around the school coming to think of it. 

"Did I startle you? I'm sorry. The Headmaster wanted me to make sure that all the students came down to dinner," the newcomer grinned, motioning in the general direction of the portrait. 

"I'm not hungry," Harry said, turning back to stare into the merrily crackling fire. 

"Oh. Well I guess that I don't need to bother you then," she said, although she made no move to leave.

"It's alright," Harry said, forcing himself to smile at her, though he suspected it came out more as a grimace.

"Uh, excuse me if this sounds rude, but do I know you?" asked the mysterious girl after a few minutes of tense silence.

Harry laughed bitterly. "Doesn't everybody?" 

"I guess not," she replied, confused.

"That's funny, considering who I am," Harry said hollowly.

"Cocky, aren't you?" she asked, resting her hand on the back of an armchair. 

"Just too well known," Harry replied absently. 

"Why's that?" 

Harry brushed his hair away to show her his forehead. "I'm the Boy Who Lived." 

"Oh," she said, her pretty face reflecting her confusion at his comment.

"Yeah." 

"Well, you're not the only person to ever survive a argument with their wand," she smiled, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder. 

"What?" Harry asked, his eyebrows shooting up so far they were in danger of disappearing into his raven black hair.

"That's how you got the scar, is it not? My friend Anya did that once," she continued, plunking herself down on the arm of one of the chairs, rolling her eyes as she played absentmindedly with a loose thread on the sleeve of her robes. 

Harry regarded the girl suspiciously. Something was wrong with her? *'_Perhaps she doesn't like_ _to talk about it. Isn't that what you wanted Harry?'*_ He had to admit that his conscience was right. "Yeah, that's how did it. But it's not why I'm so angry about it." 

"Then what is it? You're so angry about, I mean," the girl said 

"I'm just so sick of this, all of this. I've had my share of prophecies fulfilled- probaby more- and they just keep coming. I hate it! Everyone I know is in constant danger because of me! I shouldn't even be here! I should have stayed with the muggles, it would have been better then this!" he burst out angrily, turning away from the mysterious girl so she couldn't see the tears glistening in his eyes. "Anything would be better then this," he whispered hoarsely, obstinately staring out onto the blindingly white grounds.

"So what are you going to do about it?" challenged his companion. 

"Maybe I ought to just give up. Leave Hogwarts and never look back." 

"Is that what you want? Honestly?" she said, her somehow familiar eyes staring into his own, challenging him to say 'yes'.

"Yes.... no.... I don't know anymore! I try to see myself in the future- what I'm doing, the person I've become. And all I see is death and destruction because of me." 

"The future is never certain, but I don't know if giving up on it is the wisest decision. If you give up, there will never be anything but problems. By allowing yourself to fight against the odds, you're doing your best to make the future better." 

"I don't think I can do much more- I just... can't...." 

"_Never _say that. It's the young wizards like yourself that will be able to save us, when…" she trailed off, aware she had said too much. She turned her head away, but not before Harry caught a glimpse of a rising flush on her cheeks.

"When what?" he asked her, leaning forward in his chair conspiratively.

She paled, then dropped her voice furtively. "I've…I've seen the future. It's darker then you can imagine. But we must remain strong. As long as we don't give in, there will always _be_ hope." 

"I don't think hope can save us- I'm not sure if anything can," Harry said.

"You may be surprised. Hope is the strongest force in the world. Remember that- always remember that." 

Harry glanced up and, for a moment, their eyes met in complete undersatnding. "I will. I promise you that." 

"Good." The girl said, then continued brightly. "Now, as much as I'm enjoying this conversation, _I_ am hungry. So if you'll excuse me, there is a dinner to attend." 

"Alright," Harry said. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he knew absolutely nothing about the young woman that had barged into his life and managed to twist it around so easily. "Hey!" he called out as she was about to disappear out the portrait. The girl spun around, wisps of firey red hair falling out from underneath her Griffindor beanie.

"What?" she asked as he ran forward, climbing out the hole as well.

"I never caught your name," Harry admitted, as they walked down the corridor to the great hall.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I imagine it just slipped my mind. I'm Lily," she said, extending her hand. "Lily Evans." 

~*~*~*~

Cheesy, I suppose, but my muse has always been an evil one. I would love feedback, positive or negative. I just want feedback. Poor characterization? Point it out. Too many clichés? Always great to make a note of. Enjoyed the story? That's great. I just want to hear your **_honest _**opinion. Thanks. :-D


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